


A Promise

by kirschhhstein



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, i was too lazy to write the actual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 23:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2791922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirschhhstein/pseuds/kirschhhstein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirschstein turned at the voice, and found Arlert a few paces away, looking skyward with a neutral expression.  "It's hard to believe though - that we used to be able to see the stars spilling across the sky.  When I was a child I used to worry that they'd abandoned us."</p><p>"And now?"</p><p>"And now I worry about more important things."</p><p>** very loosely based on 'praise' prompt for jearmin week iii **</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Promise

The king's insistence on throwing a celebratory feast with each victory against the Titans, no matter how small, was grinding on Commander Jean Kirschstein's nerves.  Reveling in these minuscule achievements was pointless, especially when they had so much further to go.  They were taking back their land inch by inch, and Kirschstein was convinced it'd be many more years before they achieved anything worth celebrating.  As far he was concerned parties were a waste of resources, time, and his patience especially when he was forced to attend.  But Kirschstein couldn't very well turn down a direct invitation from the king tonight, particularly when they were celebrating his first successful mission as Commander of Trost's military regiment.

_This is how Dawke lost his command.  Growing fat and lazy on wine and sex until he lost sight of his goals, and then the respect of his men.  He should've been removed sooner.  Though it's not like Smith was much better._

"Oh, do brighten up Commander!"  The King said to him when evening came, his face already scarlet as wine slopped from his glass to stain his shirt.  The festivities had not long started in the hall, yet there were few who weren't already taking full advantage of the free buffet - food and... employees alike.  The Commander pretended he could see none of it.  "Indulge yourself in the feast!  You've earned it!  I also can arrange some lovely company for yourself if you're interested.  I know some fine young women who have been eyeing you up since your cadet days!"  He leaned in closer, a grinning leer on his face as he lowered his voice.  "Some fine older women too, if that's more to your tastes."

Smiling politely, Commander Kirschstein declined his offer.  "I do appreciate the offer, your Majesty, but I'm afraid my tastes merely cater to winning the war without distraction."

"Oh come now, you're far too uptight for one as young as you are.  You have to relieve your frustrations somehow."  The King gave a most unkingly pout.  Then the look in his eyes grew more mischievous as he beckoned the Commander closer.  Kirschstein obliged, if only by an inch.  "You know, if you're into something a little more...  _unusual,_ I'm sure there's something I can put together."

"Unusual, Sire?"  Feigning ignorance, Kirschstein wanted to see if he could push the King into admitting his own preferences.  The rumours had spun for years, but of course without proof enough to condemn His Royal Majesty.  Not that the Commander was building up a stockpile of information for a possible coup d'état in the future, oh no of course not.  Either way.. it certainly would be useful information.

Commander Jean Kirschstein may be under the King's rule, but he never gave the impression that he was loyal to the Royal Family.  He did not belong to himself either, nor to any one man, but to all of them.  He was no lover of the nobles who spent their days in leisure while those in the lower rings clawed the walls and streets for something, anything to live on and to live for.  Kirschstein himself was once among those scrabbling for scraps until he joined the army and bitterly fought his way up to the King's side, sweating blood and faith with each step.  He was not in this for the perks and luxuries, no.  He was in this to offer his heart to humanity of course, like the job description said.  Even if he had to rip it out of his own chest and throw it to the Titans himself, he would rebuild this city with his own bones for those in the lower rings.  The people of Trost knew it.  And they loved him for it.

But oh, the Royals and nobles loved him too.  They always adored the young fresh ones, their strict training still ingrained deep in their bones with still that little bit of hope in their hearts.  Jean Kirschstein was a little different though.  The people, citizens and soldiers alike, were devoted to him.  Handsome as a noble, but with the intelligence and mental strength of an experienced commander along with that fierce spark of youth and hope mixed with determination in his eye - oh, they couldn't wait to sink their rotten fangs in and corrupt him.

It was slightly amusing to see them try, Commander Kirschstein thought as he returned to the present, but still far more repulsive than he'd expected.  His eyebrow twitched as the King narrowed his eyes and his thin lips quirked upwards in what Kirschstein assumed was a smile.  "Well, not so much unusual as... unwarranted."  His eyes slid to their left, and Kirschstein followed his lewd gaze.  A boy stood at the buffet table, pouring scarlet wine into empty goblets held by passing nobles.  There was a slight tremor in his fingers, and his eyes seemed wider than normal, as though he still couldn't believe his surroundings.  Kirschstein guessed he was originally from the middle rings of the land, scooped up as a servant out of sheer luck and was now living a more luxurious life that those from the lower rings could only dream of.  Whether he was actually lucky or not was yet to be determined.  Not only the King's eyes were on him, but many others had recognised the boy's youth and looks.  He couldn't have been more than sixteen.

Kirschstein clenched his teeth behind his smile.  "Again, I'm afraid you misjudge me, your Majesty.  I have no such interests."

"You're so dull, Commander."  The King sighed, and sank lower in his chair.  "I'll find out your secrets one day."

Yes, you probably will, Kirschstein thought.  And wouldn't that be a interesting day for humanity.

 _"Oh."_   The King sat up straight in his chair, interest sparking in his eyes once more as he caught sight of something new.  His hands twitched around his goblet as he zeroed in on his target.  "His secrets would intrigue me as well."

Kirschstein satisfied his disgust with the vivid image of choking His Majesty, before locating the next poor soul to catch the King's attention.

Ah, but for once the young Commander found himself agreeing with His Royal Majesty.

The young man who had just entered the room was causing quite a stir among the others as well.  With a face of a prince and hair kissed by the sun goddess as some would say, the military's youngest prodigal tactician swept by the tables and approached the King.  Like Kirschstein, he had adopted his formal military wear - tailored perfectly to his slim shape in white and gold.  He wore no medals or sashes like the other invited soldiers, but instead a mere silver ring upon his middle finger.  Unusual, seeing as jewellery other than a wedding band or identification tags were generally not permitted in any rank.

Kirschstein had noticed this upon their introduction a month ago when the young man had first been appointed Senior Tactician to his regiment.  Arlert, he recalled.  Armin Arlert he said his name was, before he smiled and took the Commander's hand.  "I look forward to bettering this world with you, Commander."  He had said.  And he had sounded so sincere, and had the appearance of one so pure that Kirschstein immediately realised he could not trust him.

They had since not spoken outside of organising military formations and attack plans for their first mission together, and the Commander had grudginglyacknowledged Arlert's incredible focus and skill straightaway.  At first impression he seemed so terribly honest he was almost blunt - but Kirschstein couldn't ignore the instinctive feeling that Arlert was hiding something.  Not that anyone else seemed to have an issue with the young soldier.  If the nobles loved Kirschstein, they  _worshiped_ Arlert.  He could understand why - with blue eyes as round and inquisitive as a child's, and a voice that soothed even the most tense of souls, it was no wonder he was widely adored.

And the King it seemed was no exception to his charms.  He straightened his back and looked up eagerly as Arlert finally reached them, who was apparently blind to the many eyes upon him.  "Your Majesty, I apologise for my tardiness.  There was much paperwork to be done after the success of our expedition."

"A-Ah, yes - splendid job Arlert!"  The King nodded vigorously, gesturing wildly with his goblet.  "It was a grand idea of mine to promote you so soon.  You and the Commander here are going to turn this war around, I know it!"

At the mention of Kirschstein, Arlert's eyes slid across to meet his.  For a bizarre moment, Kirschstein wanted to take a step back.

That was another thing about the tactician - his intense gaze had the strangest impact upon the Commander.  Something unreadable always flashed across his face when their eyes met or their bodies brushed - causing a streak of heat in Kirschstein's chest, or his mind to momentarily go blank; and it frustrated him to no end that he couldn't stifle it.  He was certain that Arlert's mannerisms didn't aggravate anyone else like this.  Not in the same manner.  These sudden spikes of unwanted lust were unnecessary and distracting, and Kirschstein was disgusted with himself for wanting to succumb to it.

And it was as if Arlert knew the affect he was having.  Around anyone else, soldiers and nobles alike, he seemed oblivious to their longing gazes and lewd suggestions.  But when it came to Kirschstein, it was though Arlert was  _trying_ to get a rise out of him.  Deliberate lingering touches, and low soft-spoken words were typically his tactics, and Kirschstein found himself constantly on edge like he was now. _  
_

"We're certainly try our best, won't we Commander?"  Arlert murmured, and Kirschstein suppressed a scowl.

"Certainly."  He said, then gave a short bow.  "Please excuse me, Your Majesty.  I find myself in need of some fresh air."

"Yes, yes, Commander."  The King waved him away, now far more interested in his newest and prettiest toy soldier.  "Oh - but do let me know if you change your mind about some company.  I'd be just  _thrilled_ to set you up with one of my nephews.  Or both.  They're twins you know, and they've been dying to meet the great Commander."

Kirschstein wrestled with the urge to smack him there and then as Arlert raised an eyebrow almost imperceptively.  "That won't be necessary, Sire.  Good night."  He walked away from the King's table, well aware of his own rudeness and the set of blue eyes boring into his back.

Before leaving the grand hall, he paused at the buffet table and glanced down at the boy holding a large glass bottle in his small quaking hands.  The boy met his eyes and let out a breathless squeak, quickly grabbing an empty goblet from the table and offering it up to the Commander.  Taking it, Kirschstein held it out for the boy to fill, leaning down slightly as he did so.

"What's your master's name?"

The boy jumped, lifting the bottle upright so as not to spill the liquid inside.  "M-...Mister Turney, C-Commander Kirschstein sir."

Jacob Turney, Kirschstein remembered.  A decent man, he was kind to his employees and was known for turning away work that would surely cause them to be abused.  Kirschstein gestured impatiently with his half-filledgoblet and the boy immediately resumed pouring.  "If anyone but your master approaches you and tries to take you somewhere, tell them you are Commander Jean Kirschstein's attendant for the night and cannot attend to anyone else.  Do you understand?"

He looked startled at the Commander's low voice, at the seriousness in his eyes.  Then horror quickly crossed his face and he swallowed.  "O-oh... What if... What if they force me, sir?"

"Scream.  I'll cut off the hands of whoever touches you."  The boy didn't seem comforted by that, but a strange admiration burned in his eyes.  "Or you can run to your master now and tell him I've advised you both to leave.  I can't guarantee you'll be paid for the night's work however."

With a quivering lip and teary eyes, the boy sat down the bottle and stared up at the Commander.  He thanked him, his voice thick with gratitude, and quietly moved out of sight to the kitchens where his master was.  Kirschstein watched him leave, before taking a sip of his wine.  Bitter.  He was just about to take his own leave when a finely dressed man approached him, stumbling slightly with a hand constantly smoothing down the shirt on his chest.  "Where's the wine attendant?"  He demanded impatiently, glaring at Kirschstein with unfocused eyes.

Kirschstein considering him for a moment before picking up the bottle and shoving it into the man's grasp.  "Pour your own damn wine."  He said, and moved away from the table.  Though not before leaving his own glass behind.

He found himself alone on the West wing's balcony, overlooking the grounds of the palace.  The green, empty save a few hundred rose bushes and hedges sheared in a slim likeness of His Royal Majesty, went on for miles in every direction.  Thinking of all the wasted living space and those sleeping on the hard cobbled streets in the lower ring, the Commander grit his teeth and forced himself to look at the sky.  It was a deep murky blue, as it was each night.  Pollution from the factories in the middle and lower rings had proved devastating over the last hundred years, and the skies were in a constant state of smoke - blurred greys and blues.  Kirschstein had never seen a star in his life.  If he squinted, he could make out the dim shape of the moon cowering behind the plumes.

"They're still up there, you know."

Kirschstein turned at the voice, and found Arlert a few paces away, looking skyward with a neutral expression.  "It's hard to believe though - that we used to be able to see the stars spilling across the sky.  When I was a child I used to worry that they'd abandoned us."

"And now?"

"And now I worry about more important things."

Kirschstein took advantage of their lack of audience to study the other man.  Upon closer look he could recognise what some may call 'imperfections' about him.  His top lip was fuller than his lower, though both were as pink as a rose petal.  His wide eyes were curved over not by delicate eyebrows as expected, but denser and more expressive brows.  And curved below his eyes were dark rings that a pale layer of expensive skin foundation couldn't quite cover.

Beautiful, Kirschstein realised.  He allowed himself once last lingering look at Arlert's face before he was addressed again.

"I saw what you did for that boy.  That was kind of you."

"Any decent human being would've done the same."

Arlert quietly snorted in amusement.  "I wouldn't have thought decent human beings still existed."

Perhaps they didn't.  Kirschstein didn't truly believe he was a good man.  He was just trying not to be a bad one.

“You’re standing so stiffly.  Though I suppose it’s natural for a soldier to be so rigid all the time.”  Arlert hummed.  “But you can relax around me, you know.  After all, we are going to be working closely together from now on.”

“Relaxing isn’t something that comes easily to me.  And the thought of working closely with you doesn’t put me at ease at all.”

“Well, that’s only to be expected.  I can see how the sexual attraction you feel towards myself would be problematic."

Commander Kirschstein gave a most undignified squawk of “Hah?” as he whipped his head around to stare down at the tactician who continued gazing at the sky.  “I seem to be suffering from a similar problem though, so you’re not alone.”  He gave a wistful smile, and rubbed his thumb against the ring on his finger.  A promise ring, Kirschstein realised.  “I see I’m still weak for a man in uniform after all.”

“Look Arlert, I’m not sure what you’re getting at - but if you’re implying that working together is going to be a issue for me then you’re wrong.  So I suggest that you keep whatever false impressions you have of me to yourself.  Do your job, and I’ll do mine.  I maintain a professional relationship with all of my subordinates, and don’t expect to break that streak anytime soon.”

“I’m not your subordinate, Commander.” Arlert spoke quietly in a way that forced Kirschstein’s voice silent.  “The King himself appointed me to advise and act as I see fit.  I us expect to work alongside each other as equals, and treat each other with respect.  But believe me, if I get even the slightest impression that you no longer have humanity’s best interests at heart, I will not hesitate to cut you down.  I will not abide yet another arrogant tyrant wasting the lives of good men, that you can be certain of.”

Ah, there it was.

The sincere threat in the young man’s voice was unmistakable, and the Commander found himself rendered silent in a way few others had been able to do so.  Arlert had been unnerving upon first impression, however now the Commander was alarmingly wary of who exactly he was dealing with.

He was well aware of the previous commander’s tyrannical orders, having worked under him for a few agonising years before assuming command himself.  And he knew Smith had started out much like himself - nowhere to go but up.  And he'd made it eventually, older than Jean was when he achieved the position.  He was initially known to be strict - harsh even, and was respected albeit not particularly liked.  However something took a turn around his sixth year as leading Commander.  The change was unusually abrupt - Smith grew desperate and cruel.  He made rash decisions involving a new project with elite soldiers, encouraged and funded by the King and the nobles - combining the DNA of the soldiers with that of recently discovered abnormal creatures in the land they had just newly regained.  These creatures had not yet been thoroughly studied, nor had the proper time and precautions were taken with the project.  A failed experiment with an overly enthusiastic cadet causing a massacre in the lower ring had proven as such.  Kirschstein still remembered the wails and sobs of the cadet’s siblings when he had fallen on his comrade's blades, though not their faces.  He remembered the screams of the massacred too.  It wasn't long after that that Smith was deemed unfit to lead and  _removed._ Kirschstein succeeded his position shortly after.

So that was it.  A deep seated rage directed towards the powerful and wealthy of Trost, similar to Kirschstein's own.  He could understand that.  But that didn’t mean he wasn’t outraged at the tactician’s implications.

Arlert then turned to face him with a neutral expression, but Kirschstein recognised a familiar ice in his eyes and steel in his voice when he said:  “Are we clear, Commander?”

“Abundantly.”  Kirschstein responded coldly.  Arlert relaxed his expression into a faint smile.  “I’m glad.  I do like you, you know.  And you’re very handsome.  I’d be sad to not have to see you everyday.”

Kirschstein ignored what he was sure was intended as a compliment with ulterior meanings.  “I assure you, Arlert.  No soldier or civilian will suffer needlessly under my command.  I will always put humanity’s best interests first above everything, and nothing can distract me from that.”

“There’ll be time to test your loyalty, I’m sure.”  Arlert’s smile grew wider, more playful as he took a step back from the balcony’s edge and towards the light of the hall.  He glanced over his shoulder at the Commander, eyes slowly sweeping up and down his body in a way that almost made Kirschstein want to cover himself in discomfort.  He almost felt like prey under the young man’s intense gaze, and relentlessly fought the growing warmth spreading from his gut.  “And there’ll be time to test the strength of the attraction between ourselves as well, in case you were worried about that.”

“I assure you I wasn’t.”  Kirschstein said stiffly.  He refused to let this man get to him, whether it be by threat or seduction.  He was Commander of Trost’s entire military regiment, not some cowering or blushing maid on a street corner.  He would not be swayed so easily.

“You can keep telling yourself that if it makes it easier on you.”  Arlert shrugged, turning and walking back towards the hall.  Kirschstein watched the sway of his yellow hair as he moved, because it was impossible not to look at him and safer than looking anywhere else on Arlert’s body.  “But let’s not pretend that you’re not going to come find me before the night is over to kiss me in some dark corner before whisking me away to your bedchamber.”

Kirschstein stared after him (resisting the urge to gape; military commanders do not gape), appalled at his blatantly suggestive behaviour.  In fact, the Commander was so indignant at the young man’s assumptions that he waited at least good twenty minutes past midnight before steering Arlert away from the buffet table with a growl in his ear and stealing him away to his chambers to show him exactly how frustrated he was.


End file.
